Don't Fear the Reaper
by xTheNamelessx
Summary: All our times have come...Here but now they're gone... DeathXOC Disclaimer: I don't own Death and the Discworld.
1. All Our Times Have Come

It has been three years.

It came the morning. I woke up to find a rose lingering next to my pillow. I touch it, stroke its petals. The thorns have been carefully removed, so none pricks me. The window is open , I can sense the breeze wrapping around me. There are voices from the nearby corridors. I lay there in total silence. Images start to form inside my mind. The darkness becomes a blue sky. Trees dance to the wind outside my window. The sun is bright and the birds sing. I could watch them for hours as the twirl all around the place, sitting on branches and having their little singing competition.

I dream I was one of them.

I dream I had wings that I could spread and fly, following the wind.

Then I remember how the grass would swing softly, carried away by the breeze. My mind races back to my grandfather's cottage. I can see my grandmother cooking in the kitchen, I can smell the ancient smell of flowers blossoming. It's spring; nature screams. I can see my grandfather working in the garden, soil stains covering his blue shirt. I open the wooden door to find myself in the middle of the garden. And then I see it; my swing. Just a common wooden swing, hanging from the branches of an old tree. It would look so ordinary in a stranger's eyes. But for me it is more of a vehicle than a swing.

A vehicle that can fly me back in time, when I was young, when I could run and jump so high I was bound to touch the sky.

A vehicle that carries you to the most distant corners of your mind, where Imagination has built its own kingdom.

A vehicle that would take me to another dimension.

I snap back into reality when somebody comes inside my room. I turn my head around. The cottage fades into blackness. I know I am back inside the real world, because now I can see nothing. I feel cold steel on my chest. The doctor is trying to hear my heartbeat. My body shivers. The sheets are too thin to protect me from the chilly breeze. I know it is my doctor, because his voice is cold and steely, and there is no warmth in it. He acts as if I am another object. I know I am a simple patient to him, but I really wish I was more than that. I really wish I was important to somebody. I lift my left hand, surprised I can still do that, and touch something that feels like cloth. It was probably his apron because he is now talking to me. I can't hear him very well. He asks if I need something; I sense some sadness in his voice. I open my mouth. My neck is dry, my lips sore.

"Have I got any time left?", I try to speak. It sounds more like a swansong. The doctor does not reply. However, I have a horrible feeling he shook his head. I feel him abandoning the room.

I close my eyes. It makes no difference anymore, since it is all the same, even when they are open. I stroke the petals of the rose again.

Then I am suddenly terrified, because my nasty rival, Pain, has just woke up. I can feel him crawling up the bed, searching for my body. I can sense the evil grin on his face, as he enters me.

It hurts.

I hurt.

Pain is suddenly everywhere, like he always is. The good thing is I know the nurse will soon be there to medicate me. That scares Pain away for a while. The problem is, he always comes back.

I've been in hospital for three years now. The doctors still haven't figured out what it is that cost me both my body and eyes. I spent most of my day sleeping, because there is nothing else I can do. Sometimes I am happy, because I can dream. Some others I'm depressed because I cannot.

The nurse just came in I can tell. She smells of chocolate. She must be fat, because her feet make much more noise than the doctor's. She claps a hand on my shoulder, asking how I am doing. I try to answer, but find myself incapable of such and settle with a nod. She smiles, I can feel it. While she medicates me, the only sound is the one of silence.

She says she's done for today and smiles again. I can hear her leaving the room.

It came the afternoon. I know, because the nurse returned to switch the radio on. She would once turn the TV on for me, but it is totally useless now. I always preferred music anyway. There is some buzzing. Then, music comes in. It is a song I've never heard of before. The nurse leaves the room. I am left alone with the music. I close my eyes again, in an attempt to listen carefully, as to understand the lyrics.

_All our times have come,_

_here but now they're gone_

Sounds depressing. Maybe I should call the nurse to change the station.

_Seasons don't fear the Reaper,_

_nor do the wind or the sun and the rain_

I wish I were a season then, I think and smile. The song goes on but I can hardly listen any more. My mind wanders. What will it be like, when _my_ time has run out?


	2. Seasons Don't Fear The Reaper

The faint sound of rain pouring outside was the best lullaby for me. Small drops would occasionally land on the window glass, causing small knocks. My mind was racing . Since this afternoon, I couldn't stop thinking about my life after death. If of course, there was any life after it. There was something, deep inside me that screamed the end was near. Maybe it was the doctor this morning in combination with the song and now the pouring rain... I felt tears of nostalgia coming up my eyes.

I wish I could see the room for the last time.

I wish I could get up and get to the window, to watch the raindrops dripping slowly on the glass.

I wish I could scream and let them all know it is the end.

The song had really had an effect on me. I was generally quite easy to be emotionally affected. I spent the rest of the day wondering if death was just a big sleep, or was there something more to it? I had a horrible headache but I skipped it, in order to try and line up my thoughts. Death as a matter of fact was the time you stopped sensing the world around you. Or wasn't it? Was death the eternal darkness? Well, this one didn't sound so bad. After all, I had gotten used to darkness. I felt more and more anxious as my thoughts went on. Was death coming? And if yes, was it tonight?

They say elephants can sense when they are about to die. They set off to find an elephant graveyard and there they breathe their last breath. I have been waiting for death the past three years. Doctors have tried anything to keep me alive, but there is no point in it anymore. I am blind and cripple. I can't watch the sun come up and go down everyday, I can't run barefoot on the green grass. I can't even get up from my bed. Sometimes I really pray death comes, for I am not afraid of him anymore; he is my only salvation.

Yet, sometimes I find some reason in my existence. It is when I hear the wind blowing, when I feel the warm rays of the shining sun on my face, when I hear the rain pour outside my window. Then I come to understand the brilliance of eternity; the memories I have left behind haunt my unconsious and I can dream. My mother always said I have a good memory. And I always believed her words.

The sound of rain grew louder. It must be a real storm out there, I thought. Oddly enough, I felt grateful I was protected by the solid hospital walls. My head felt dizzy, so I closed my eyes again. I knew I had to sleep, but there was nothing to rush for. Sleep was the only thing I didn't miss during my hospitalization. There was another knock of raindrop on the window. Only, this time it was much more intense.

The room suddenly felt colder, the air around me was filled with a fusty smell. It made it difficult to breathe, but I could manage. I had handled much worse circumstances than some breathing difficulties anyway. I felt shivers down my spine, surprised I could actually feel something after so much time. I tried to smile, but halted myself. There was someone in the room with me, but the door hadn't opened.

I could feel a cold stare on my sore body.

I could smell the sudden humidity in the air.

My hand rose to meet something that felt like velvet. It was cold. Not simply cold, but freezing cold. For a moment, there was a blur flash of light inside my head, as if my eyes were functioning again. I could see a black figure standing there, opposite me, I was sure I could. Yet, there was something about it that made me want to look away. Then it faded soflty and I laid there in thundering silence. I sensed him moving, and suddenly there was the sound of sand pouring through something. I felt my ears burning as it penentrated my head. They must have been holding something, because the sound of a sharp object being waved around reached my ears. It left a horrible echo in my head, that only made me dizzier . My eyelids became heavier, dragging themselves down as my eyes closed. I felt as if I had been solving math problems for hours. Exhaustment took me over, but I couldn't let him conquer every part of me. I struggled with my inner desire to keep one eye open.

There were steps clicking on the marble floor. It sounded like a bird walking on marble. Then I sensed a wave of frozen air traveling around the room, as everything came back to normal. My hands felt colder than before, and inside my head, everything seemed a little darker. I was left there alone and bewildered.


	3. Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain

Nurse Betty -that is the name of my primary caretaker while in hospital- has always appeared in my head as a fat lady in her middle forties, with curly red hair. I have never seen her in fact. It is just the impression her high-pitched voice gives off. She is always angry or whining about something, when out in the corridor, but once she comes in the room -and she comes quite often- she wears the mask of a Cheerful Fairy.

Today she was probably replaced by some other nurse, because this one's hands felt warmer. It provided some alleviation to my aching sides, when she caressed them softly. When the door was shut silently, while I was playing asleep, I was left alone with my daunting thoughts. The wind, the sun, the rain. Their eternal journey through time and space...

I thought, What if I were one of those elements, whose soul cannot be worn out, who will keep existing, even after the very end of the human race?

Excitement filled me, causing my heart to flutter. Maybe I was still able to move and just didn't know it. All these painkillers and anesthetics sometimes caused once mind to consider it impossible for them to get up from their bed. I thrust my arms left and right. My left one collapsed soulless on my side. But my right one landed on a rather interesting surface. I started to explore it with my hands.

Definitely not on purpose, my hand touched the buttons of the radio. I was switched open. A song came in.

_I know since years,_

_you've been taking me away_

_I'll always come back though_

_there's been so much to do_

_This time is different,_

_It's our final kiss,_

_my final departure_

_My wings are not strong yet,_

_But I can fly_

I felt a sore eyebrow flying up. I wish I could, too, my thoughts spoke.

_Death is...In love with me,_

_In love with_

_Death is...In love with me..._

Not so lucky you, the voice inside my head spoke again. I smiled at myself. My eyes began to close as the melody lulled me.

How many hours has it been? My head aches horribly. I feel dizzier than usual. I hear some ticking. Is it a clock? It's been years since I last heard one. Something in the room has changed. I can't see it, but during my time in the hospital, my other senses have over-developed. The radio is still on, indicating the nurse hasn't touched it. However, the only thing I can hear is buzzing. I try to reach for the button to turn it off, but it seems impossible.

There is either no sun today, or I woke up in the middle of the night. The room is colder than usual, I thought. My hands felt numb from my last attempt to move. There is this irritating ticking. My mind races. During my sleep, I had the chance to revive yesterday's weird visit. Was there truly someone in my room? I am almost sure I heard footsteps as they left, but there was no sound indicating they entered. And this sound of hissing sand had been carved deep inside my brain.

Suddenly, the air was fuggy. It was the same smell of humidity I had smelled yesterday. And all of sudden the ticking of the clock stopped; my heartbeat followed. I opened my eyes, to find I could see. Not see in detail, and browse around me, but I could make out colors and weird shapes, all mixed together. There was this black thing in the middle again. The sound of sand hissing filled my ears.

"Who...who are you?", I stumbled, finding my voice was too husky to be understood by the strange visitor. There was a pause of silence. The hair on the back of neck rose.

I HAVE BEEN CALLED MANY NAMES.

I goggled my eyes in an attempt to make out the details on him. He was obviously a man, because his voice resembled this of a baritone. Only, it sounded more like coffin lids slamming shut.

"Tell me one then" I answered with all courage that had been left inside me.

ER...WHICH ONE WOULD YOU PREFER?

He was holding something. I could see it. It was sharp.

"...The one that sounds...less terrifying I guess..." I had this very bad feeling I already knew who he was. He was the one I had been waiting for so long. He was...

DEATH.


	4. We can be like they are

I felt a sharp stitch in my stomach. Had he just said Death or was it all in my mind? It couldn't be; I could see him clearly enough now. "He" was a seven foot tall skeleton in a black robe, holding a traditional wooden sand timer in his left hand. I didn't even dare to look at the tall sharp object in his other hand.

Practically, he doesn't exist, the voice inside my mind spoke. But my eyes spoke otherwise. He was there, I could feel it. There was something like an invisible ice envelope around him which froze my heartbeat. I felt my tongue stuck on the back of my palate, my neck dry. I tried to speak but found out I was unable to, once more.

He totally ignored my presence, carefully watching the hourglass in his hand. As my sensitive, re-born eyesight grew stronger, I could make out the letters carved on its base. KATHRINE BLUESTONE. I goggled my eyes, my breath being cut. It was my name. My name on an hourglass being held by a moving skeleton. But what shocked me the most wasn't the fact my life timer -because that it obviously was- was presented like that in front of me. It was empty. Well, not exactly empty. There was sand at the bottom, which was mysteriously flowing back up, ignoring the laws of gravity. The skeleton scratched his mandible with four bony fingers. It made a horrible sound, like rocks being rubbed together. I finally found the courage to speak.

"Are you here for me?" , I questioned, feeling totally stupid to ask something so obvious.

YES. He spoke so clearly and loud, there was no way I had missed a word; a voice that seemed to come from inside my own head.

"Oh. I see. So...what are you waiting for?", I said hesitantly.

He seemed thoughtful.

YOU...STILL HAVE SOME TIME LEFT.

His statement sounded more like one said by someone who was trying to hide the truth in a very unsuccessful way. I decided to take the risk and open a conversation with him.

"But...the sand is flowing upwards. Isn't it supposed to flow in the opposite direction?"

He turned his skull up to face me. I felt uncomfortable. Two blue stars lost in the infinite darkness of his eye sockets giving me a penetrating gaze

YES. He said coldly.

"Why aren't I dead then?"

He kept gazing at me, making me feel more and more uncomfortable.

BECAUSE SAND IS STILL FLOWING.

"But it flows the wrong direction!"

I KNOW.

I realized this conversation was a dead end. He didn't seem like he knew, and even if he did he wasn't willing to tell me. If a skeleton could be...willing to do something. He made a noise which I could swear was a sigh and walked to the chair next to my bed where he sat, scythe still in hand.

I felt the voice in my head screaming a skeleton cannot be in my room, but decided to ignore it. He was the only visitor I had had in years. And, when it comes down to it, I had nothing to be afraid of. I was already dead, supposedly.

"So...what now?"

He looked up at me again and shrugged, bones clutching.

I HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL THE SAND STOPS FLOWING.

"Oh. Can I ask you something?"

HAVEN'T YOU ASKED TOO MUCH ALREADY? He said slightly irritated.

I felt my hands forming a tight fist.

"Considering the fact it's MY death we're talking about, I wouldn't think so!" I said nastily.

He spoke nothing so I decided to go on. He had made it clear to me by now, he wasn't the type of person who broke the silence.

"So...Are you...real?" I said with some puzzlement.

WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT?

"Um...a question that has to be answered I guess..."

He seemed irritated again.

HADN'T YOU BETTER ASK SOMETHING LIKE "WHAT HAPPENS AFTER I DIE?" OR "IS THERE TRULY AN AFTERLIFE?" ?

I raised an eyebrow. How could he be so harsh and ironic and...unreal? Guess Death wasn't the sweet redeemer I had thought him to be for the last three years. The thought caused this feeling of true disappointment one gets when they realize they had been waiting so long for something unlikely to come.

Surprisingly though, he seemed to sense this disappointment of mine. He leaned his skull a bit forward, as if he was trying to hide his face.

I AM SORRY. MY BEHAVIOR HAS BEEN TOTALLY INAPPROPRIATE.

His behavior? Honestly you must be dreaming!, the voice in my head screamed again. What did it want anyway? The end was too near to think about logic and all that stuff that make life unbearable. And I was never a realist anyway.

"It's alright. I understand my case has given you a bit of trouble."

IT HAS INDEED , he said and immediately corrected himself, I MEAN, IT IS A TROUBLING ISSUE THE FACT THAT YOUR TIME HAS RAN OUT AND YOU ARE STILL ALIVE.

"Oh,"I exclaimed calmly. "But I am dying right?"

EVERYONE IS, EVENTUALLY.

"Right."

There was a pause of silence again. Paradoxically, he was the first to break it this time.

YOU ASKED IF I WAS REAL.

I nodded.

I AM NOT. NOT IN THIS WORLD.

I raised an eyebrow.

"So I'm dreaming?"

NO.

"Oh. Then you are here?" I said with some puzzlement.

YES.

I felt tired but couldn't resist to ask. "Why?"

THE DEATH OF YOUR WORLD CANNOT DEAL WITH YOUR CASE.

A yawn escaped my mouth. Fortunately he didn't seem to understand what caused it to.

"Why can't they?"

Death paused. BECAUSE...YOUR LIFE HAS TRANSPORTED TO ANOTHER WORLD.

"Transported? What do you mean?"

ER...HAVE YOU EVER...HAD A STRANGE DREAM? MAYBE WITH SOME GIANT TURTLE CARRYING FOUR ELEPHANTS THROUGHOUT THE UNIVERSE, ON WHOSE BACK A WORLD SHAPED LIKE A DISK LIES?

I felt my head becoming dizzy again, probably because each word he spoke echoed multiple times in my head, causing a total chaos. Once I had taken my time to understand what he spoke of, I answered.

"Well...I can recall many dreams with turtles and...um...maybe once."

THEN YOU DREAMT OF THE WORLD YOUR SOUL HAS BEEN TRANSPORTED TO.

I was totally bewildered.

"How can a soul be transported?"

I AM NOT AWARE OF A HUMAN WAY TO DESCRIBE THIS PROCESS. I AM SORRY.

"Oh" Exhaustion hit me again and everything around me started to blur. I felt my eyelids close. "I am sorry" , another yawn, "I feel extremely tired..."

He leaned his skull to the side.

YOUR CONSCIENCE HAS BEEN TRYING TO CONVINCE YOU I AM NOT HERE, THAT IS WHY.

I felt my body number than ever. He rose from the chair. I saw him take the scythe in his grip again, before he turned his back at me and everything went black.

"Where are you going? You said you'd wait till I died...", I protested with all power left inside of me.

I WILL.

I felt the room a bit warmer as the door creaked open. Someone came in. I re-opened my eyes, but it was all dark again. I was back to being blind. A nurse came in, but it didn't seem like Nurse Betty.

"Are you alright, Miss Bluestone? I've been hearing you talk to someone..."

I yawned.

"I haven't."

I shut my eyes and sleep was there, to caress me in between his warm arms. Coming to think about it, I was probably the only one to survive a meeting with the Reaper.


	5. So come on baby

I spent most of my sleeping time twisting and turning around. I opened my eyes several times, testing if my eyesight was back, but nothing happened. Back to black, I thought. What worsened the situation, was when the open window brought in a frozen breeze that lowered the temperature of the room so much, it reminded me of all those I had been struggling not to think about.

Inside my head, I could still hear His voice; it's permanent echo bounced around the walls of my mind. So, it was the Reaper. He had stood there opposite me, sat on the chair next to my bed, talked to me, looked me in the eye. Yet I was still here, alive. Well, it wasn't my exact impression of what being alive meant, but anyway, I had to be thankful. Or didn't I? Wasn't it kind of a torture for him to leave me like that, waiting until he'd come again to...reap my soul...

I felt some warm liquid running down my cheek. Was it a tear? I hadn't shed one for so long, it felt as if it was the first time. I had nothing to cry about while in hospital. No one would let me down, and crying definitely wouldn't help my situation. I tried to touch it. It felt...weird.

Inside the darkness of my blind eyes, a ray of sunlight faded in, another figure appeared. It was dressed in a long white dress, blonde curls falling of her shoulders. Definitely beautiful, but in the most ugly way. It was fake. I could feel it this time, because it formed inside my head, and was surrounded by the familiarity of darkness.

Hello, she spoke, her voice sounding like mine. I knew who she was. My Conscience. She yawned and I notice she had perfectly formed lips and crystal blue eyes. All in all, she looked nothing like me.

It was quite a tiring day yesterday...don't you think?, she continued. Maybe, I thought, answering her question.

I had quite a hard time. I'm tired.

You may rest then, I thought.

Oh, I can't. You need me, for I am your logic.

I don't need logic. There is nothing illogical I could do or think in here anyway...

Isn't there? For I can give you one very successful example, one of her blonde eyebrows shot up.

Like?

Well, our late night visitor yesterday. You did try to have a conversation with him!

I sighed. I was just...curious, I thought.

Oh come on! I am hearing your thoughts all the time!

Alright, maybe I did! But I haven't had someone to talk with for years!

You have me...

You ARE me. I doesn't count!

She seemed infuriated. I'm going crazy, I thought. Then the door was suddenly open and Nurse Betty -I knew it was her for I had heard some screaming in the corridor earlier- entered my room. She was whistling happily while changing the sheets of my bed, lifting my torso up carefully, so she could remove them. She then started to feed me –a rather degrading process I had to go through three times a day- and gave me my medication.

Before she left, I notice she stopped to examine something; The ceiling had probably creaked from the humidity it had been put through the last two days. I heard her curse and call for the handyman to come fix it. My Conscience had now gone to sleep, and I could finally have my time alone dreaming.

However, once my eyes were shut, the only thing I could see was either a big turtle swimming through the universe, or a big pale horse galloping above the clouds. And both seemed so stressful to me, I decided to turn on my beloved radio instead.

Once my hands had reached the buttons, I had a hard time tracing the turn on switch. Finally, the buzzing of it as it was searching for signals, came as the sweet sound of victory in my ears. I smiled, proud at myself.

_Won't you...bzzzbzzzz...for love..._

_baby join me...bzzzbzzz_

_Won't you bzzzbzzzzzz..._

It was irritating, but admittedly much more pleasant than the sound of total silence.

_Won't you d.. for love..._

_baby join me in...bzz..._

It finally reached a signal and the sound was much clearer now.

_This world is a cruel place  
>and we're here only to lose<br>so before life tears us apart let  
>death bless me with you<em>

_Won't you die tonight for love_  
><em>Baby join me in death<em>  
><em>Won't you die<em>  
><em>Baby join me in death<em>

Oh not again! I closed my eyes, feeling tears drowning my eyelids. I was dying, and very soon. And right then I realized, I was going to die alone. My thoughts poisoned my mind with sorrow. What was happening to me?


	6. Take my hand

When I woke up it was probably some hours after midnight. A nurse must have come into my room while I was sleeping, because the radio was turned off. The window was shut as well, even though the room was unpleasantly cool. The clock should have been removed or broken, because there was no ticking. Eyes shut, I changed side to have a more detailed listen of the only sound in the room; book pages turning.

I slowly opened my eyes. At the beginning there were just blur rays of light and mixed colors, but after a while my eyesight got used to details. The first thing I noticed was the frozen clock. The next thing that caught my eye was the silent Grim Reaper sitting on the chair opposite me, focused on the pages of _War and Peace_. It suddenly seemed so amusing, ridiculous I'd dare say, to see him like that.

He looked up at me, with the two glowing blue stars he had as eyes. I smiled akwardly.

"Um...I'm awake."

I CAN SEE THAT , he said before turning back to his book.

I raised an eyebrow and cleared my throat, in an attempt to get his attention. He seemed not to notice. I repeated the cough a bit louder. Still no reaction. I felt my head boiling in anger. I coughed very loudly and, at last, he looked up.

DO YOU NEED SOME WATER?

"No"

YOU ARE HAVING A SORE NECK?

"No"

THEN WHY ARE YOU COUGHING? He said in puzzlement.

"Um...I," my cheeks slightly coloring, "It's a typical way of drawing one's attention."

OH. I SEE. He obviously didn't understand it was his attention I meant. I sighed.

"For how long do you intend to be around?" He looked up at me again.

AS LONG AS NEEDED.

I rolled my eyes. This was harder than I had thought it to be. It was nice having someone around, but not when they weren't willing to speak a word with you! Then I felt a pain in my neck as my Conscience, who had spent the last hours sleeping, woke to bring me back to reality.

You are doing it again!, she screamed inside my head.

Doing what?, I thought.

Trying to have a conversation with the guy who's not supposed to be there!

There was another sigh coming out of my mouth as I decided to ignore her. My gaze fell at the window, which was now closed. I wished a nurse was there to walk me to it. I wanted to look outside so badly, I'd do anything for it. The problem was, my feet had attached from not being exercised and therefore, even if Death's presence gave me the ability to get up, I wouldn't be able to walk. There was some sorrow planted inside my heart. To my surprise, Death could probably sense it.

ARE YOU ALRIGHT? , he asked, a sympathy in his voice I had never heard before.

"I don't know...", I replied within a sigh.

He seemed thoughtful.

CAN I HELP YOU?

_Help _me...The Reaper is offering to help me...My thoughts were interrupted by my screaming Conscience, who was obviously frustrated after hearing the willingness in his voice.

Snap out of it! He isn't even there!

I looked at him. He seemed much more real than last time and definitely much more real than the rest of the room. I smiled and nodded, ignoring my screaming Conscience.

"I guess so...Well, if you could...um...walk me to the window. I'm dying to gaze out of it..." I stopped realizing I had used the wrong word, "I mean...I'd..love to...um..."

I UNDERSTAND. He rose from the chair and neared my bed, reaching a skeletal hand out towards me. I looked at him bewildered.

TAKE MY HAND. He said in a cold voice.

I hesitantly placed my palm onto his. It was cold. Terribly cold. Frozen in fact.

"Your hand is...cold."

I KNOW. I AM SORRY. He looked slightly hurt.

Of course I couldn't really know what he was thinking, for his skull had no characteristics that could reform according to his current mood. He closed my palm into his softly and gently pulled me up so I was sitting on the bed. I looked down at my bare feet. They looked as skinny as his. Actually, my whole body resembled his. How did I get so skinny?

Death gave my hand another pull, but my body resisted to follow him. He tried once more, but I didn't pretty much move. The third time I decided I'd take the risk and stood up, just to land on his leap, since my feet literally couldn't hold me.

Being so close to Death is certainly unhealthy for one's lungs; he smells like the inside of a crypt. I tried to pull myself away and found my hips on the floor. He didn't seem to understand. Leaning his skull to the side, he reached for my hand again, and pulled me up strongly this time, baring all my weight -which shouldn't be more than forty five kilos- on his skeletal hand. He started to walk towards the window, and I was pleasantly surprised to find out I could follow him, using his bony palm as a walking stick.

Once we reached the window, I felt my heart ready to jump off my chest. The street lights, the small hospital garden, the cars parked here and there...It was beautiful. So beautiful I had to hold back a couple of tears, for I didn't want to seem more vulnerable to him than I already had. If I were to die, at least I'd die decently. I looked at him with the corner of my eye; he was following my stare out of the window. The blue glow of his eye sockets reflecting on the glass, his black robe waving softly to the wind which came in through a small chink; there was something elegant about him.

I felt a pain in the ear as my Conscience tried to draw my attention from him. I tried to ignore it, but it was too sharp, and therefore I produced a dearly embarrassing gasp. He turned at me.

IS SOMETHING WRONG? He said. There was some anxiety in his voice.

"My ear hurt."

OH. I AM AFRAID I CANNOT ASSIST YOU WITH THAT.

I smiled. And somehow it seemed to me as if he smiled back. I looked down at my feet. They had turned purple from the weight shifting. I felt ready to collapse. He noticed it and spoke again.

MAYBE I SHOULD TAKE YOU TO YOUR BED NOW.

"Maybe you should" I said, pursing my lips, trying to stand the pain. He drove me gently back to bed where I laid, relieved. As my eyes started to close again, I saw him picking up his scythe, which was all that time leaning against the wall. The book had somehow disappeared after he left it on the chair.

"Are you leaving?"

He turned back.

I WILL COME BACK.

"When?"

He looked at the clock.

IS MIDNIGHT A GOOD TIME?

I nodded smiling. But a quick thought interrupted my smile.

"But...how will I know? When you are gone, I can't see, so I can't know what time it is."

He seemed thoughtful for a while and then snapped his fingers, producing a horrible sound, like stones being thrown on each other. The classic clock on the window was replaced by a cuckoo one. I smiled and he looked back at me to make sure I was satisfied with it. Then everything blurred as he became more and more distant, heading towards the window, and walking through the wall.


	7. We'll be able to fly

When I was younger, the sink in our house used to drip. Small drops of water, periodically dropping on the metal counter, producing a noise which resembled the one of a ticking clock. But it somehow amazed me, how slowly they dripped.

However, their slowness could never be compared to the one the hours had today. It seemed to me like I was lost in the middle of eternity, and time was never going to pass. Then I came to realize why they never used clocks that could really inform you what time it is in the hospital; it gives you the feeling time is frozen. You are definitely sure it has been a total hour, and when you check the clock, you see not a minute has passed. Clocks in general never seemed to have the same sense of time as humans, mostly because human time adjusts to whether one wants it to go by quicker or slower.

For example, today was one of the days that, for a very unspecified reason, I wanted to pass quickly. Yet this damn clock was up on the wall, ticking slowly, getting on my nerves. Luckily for me, Nurse Betty, who spent half an hour mumbling to herself, wondering who replaced the original clock with a cuckoo one, disposed of it. The problem was, even after it was gone, it still went on ticking, only this time in my head.

I couldn't wait for midnight to come, and I was very well aware of it. Unfortunately, my Conscience was very well aware of it, too, so she decided to rest so as to be on the ball for when Death came back. She had been too tired to stop me from believing he was there last night, therefore giving me the hope he was as real as I and could talk and hang out with me, something I had missed so much during my time in hospital.

My bed was warmer than usual and my head dizzy, so a good sleep seemed very appealing to me. I softly closed my eyes and slept.

*()*

Death sat on his black office, in the middle of his dark study room. A giant book was open in front of him. Some weird skeletal pencils and other objects all made of bones were placed on the desk, as well as a family photo and two hourglasses. The

He examined the bone of his palm carefully, his perfect memory racing back to the last time someone had touched it. Susan. When she was a naive little girl playing with her My Little Binky set and swinging on the black garden swing up the hill. If Death had any eyes, or emotions, a warm tear of nostalgia would have run down his chin.

When he returned to his residence last night, there was some warmth on his always frozen hand. There was some scent of life on his always fuggy smelling robe. There was a touch of emotion in the glow of his always glowing eye sockets. This touch was what caused his thoughtfulness. He had allowed himself to feel last night. And he had felt for the wrong person.

Death was admittedly keen on human ways, intrigued by them miraculously finding some rightness in the chaotic universe around them. But he could never feel something for them. He knew what feeling was like; he had been mortal once. However, now he was back to being Death, he could only mimic emotions he had experienced once. And he had to confess he missed mortality some times.

This girl hadn't made him feel, though. She had just given him some stimuli to mimic a feeling. A touch. A smile. Some warmth. Her soap-smelling skin on his bony hand. Her aura colliding with his. Their stare outside the window. Most of all, she had trusted him. Relied on him, asked his help about something.

But another though crashed the illusion of being attracted to another; the thought that snapped him back to reality. He was her Reaper. Responsible to reap her soul, once she was done in her world. She would revive in the Discworld. But she couldn't be the same. Never again.

Silence was like a thin layer of ice, smashed by him producing a sound like a growl, probably his way of sighing. What had gotten into him? He was Death. He couldn't feel, he couldn't miss someone. He couldn't hope for time to pass by quicker so he'd see her again. This couldn't be his mind thinking. He was immortal, he was the Grim Reaper.

He was also lonely. It crashed him like the heaviest of stones, as he gazed at the hourglass on his table, its sand flowing upwards. It felt...familiar. Warm. Yes, the sight of her name cured his frozen interior and then he knew; he knew he cared.

*()*

When I woke up it was late afternoon. I laid there in silence, me and the ticking of the original clock, now wishing the cuckoo would let me know what time it is. There was a pleasant breeze moving the curtains of the window softly. The room smelled of laundry soap, indicating someone had cleaned the floor.

Maybe they had smelled fug in the air, I giggled to myself. Conscience was already awake, harking my thoughts, on alert for one showing I was anxious to see him again. The Reaper. My Reaper.

It didn't seem so strange to me when, provided Conscience wasn't screaming in my ear, I enjoyed his company. Actually, I didn't enjoy him being around, I just liked the fact I finally had someone to talk to; even if he didn't seem to be the most appropriate listener.

A rhythmic sound, somewhat like galloping horse hooves, was detected from somewhere outside the window. Weird; there were no horses in the city. However, the sound grew louder and louder, as if the horse was coming towards the open window. Then it became quicker yet slower, like a trot and finally came to a halt. My eyesight was revived and I gazed outside the window to see a white horse mane sifting with the light breeze. What surprised me the most, was that it was totally pale, not white or silver, but pale, totally colorless. There was the sound of someone dismounting and just a minute afterward, Death came in, walking through the wall.

He looked much taller than last time, walking slowly, scythe in hand. I had to admit I was shocked to see him "fully-equipped". Well, not exactly shocked. It was more like the fear all human beings have planted inside their hearts, the fear of dying. Fortunately, the feeling wore off when he sat on the chair next to me, leaning his sharp blade against the wall and reaching inside his robe for my hourglass. The sand was still moving upwards; only this time, there was less left at the bottom and the sand that hissed up through the hole seemed to miraculously disappear.

I turned my whole body towards him, which was a quite painful thing to do, and granted him a smile. He looked up at me.

HELLO. I THOUGHT YOU WERE ASLEEP.

"Apparently not."

He leaned his skull a bit to the side and put the hourglass back in the depths of his dark robe. I felt my mind racing to open a subject for discussion, blocked by Conscience who was struggling to make me believe he wasn't there with all her power. There was a horse neigh from outside and I smirked to myself, having found the subject I pleaded for.

"Is there a horse outside?"

YES.

"Oh. Is it yours?"

YES.

I felt a bit disappointed by his sharp answers, but decided to ignore them and go on.

"What is it called?"

BINKY.

I stopped to look at him. Was that a sarcasm? Or could the horse of Death ever be called such a childish name? It sounded more like one of those ponies in the My Little Pony series, than the infamous stallion of the Grim Reaper.

"Binky?"

YES.

"But...why?"

EXCUSE ME?

"Why...Binky? Why not...Erebus or Hurricane..or something more..."

IT IS A NICE NAME, I BELIEVE.

"Well..."

YOU DO NOT SHARE MY OPINION?

He obviously didn't mean to threaten me, but I wouldn't risk disagreeing with him, so I decided to back off.

"Um...I guess I do."

He nodded, like indicating he was satisfied with my reply. I felt some frozen drops of sweat fall down my face and wiped them off with my left hand. My hands were always full of bandages for they would always be so sore they'd cause pain with each and every move. However, when he was in the room, there was no pain. It seemed as my disease had been totally cured; until he left. And maybe that was one more of the reasons why I wanted to have him near me.

I looked up at him.

"Is he beautiful?"

He looked up at me, puzzled.

WHO?

"Binky."

If he had had any lips, I swear a wide grin would have spread across his face. He was apparently very proud of his horse.

YES. AND HE IS ALSO MORTAL.

I goggled my eyes. Why on Earth would he need a mortal horse?

"You mean...like me?"

He nodded.

"Then how does it...you know...go through walls and fly and stuff..."

HE DOESN'T.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Then how did you come all the way to here?"

ON HORSEBACK.

"Across the highway?", sarcasm dripping off my voice.

ACROSS THE UNIVERSE.

"On a mortal horse that cannot fly?"

THE LAWS OF GRAVITY DO NOT APPLY ON HIM.

I hushed and was left looking at him, the enthusiasm of the moment fading off. I suddenly felt the lust to make him seem more humane...I didn't want to believe he had come there on his flying mortal horse. I just didn't. I lowered my head and my stare fell at my hands. They had this despicable yellowish color, that looked like a corpse beginning to rot.

Then, I looked at the small mirror hanging next to the bathroom door. When I had to use the toilet, the nurses would walk me to it, and as a result I hadn't had the chance to have a proper look at myself for the last two years. Shivers were sent down my spine; Death was staring at me. I turned my head the other way around.

"Can you walk me to the bathroom?"

YES.

He stood up and reached for my hand, a bit hesitantly. But this time, with Conscience having given up in trying to persuade me it wasn't a real bony hand I grabbed, it felt a bit warmer. He walked me to the bathroom door where he stopped still and seemed to consider what to do next. I looked at the mirror in front of me.

There was this creature, this horrible mixture of a living woman and a corpse staring back at me. It took me quite a while to realize it was my reflection. I had never been extraordinarily beautiful, but this _thing _in the mirror couldn't even be human. Yellowish skin and brown circles had formed around my eyes, which were both reddish around the corners. Their natural blue color had turned into a sick layer of almost colorless iris, as if I had cataracts. My average-sized lips were bruised. But, as if all the above were not sufficiently terrible, I had become so skinny, it almost looked as if Death and I had no weight difference. Another thing that captured my attention was his hand did not reflect on the glass.

Told you he's not real! Conscience said inside my head.

Shut up, I thought.

I looked at the horse outside. Death, who was obviously examining my reflection as well all of this time, turned around to meet my gaze. I felt tears running down my eyes.

"You saw it, huh?"

IT IS BECAUSE YOU ARE SUPPOSEDLY DEAD.

"I'm horrible", I said, allowing a burst of sobs to come out.

Death seemed helpless. I could feel he panicked a little, obviously because he wasn't used to comforting people.

I...I...

"Hug me and say no you're not!" I said in between sobs and tears. What I had just witnessed was so awful, I didn't really care who I was addressing these words to.

He leaned his skull a bit to the side, gently pulling me closer to him. I was so desperate to feel one's touch, I automatically rested my head on his ribcage.

NO YOU'RE NOT, he said, as softly as he could.

I felt myself ready to collapse from pain, exhaustion and sorrow. However, something about the way he spoke those words cause a bittersweet mixture of sympathy and fear in my heart. I was starting to like him, but he was the Reaper.

He seemed to have reached a dead end again and looked outside.

MAYBE YOU...WOULD ENJOY A RIDE?

I looked up at him. Before Conscience or my logic could stop me, I felt my head tittling up and down in a nod. He walked me gently to the window, where he just went through the wall as if it was piece of cake. I rested my body against the wall.

"You know, I really can't walk through this."

A skeletal hand reached for mine, through the open window.

CLIMB OUT THEN.

I dragged my body against the wall, towards his hand and grabbed it, to be pulled out of the window, thirty meters above the ground. I felt my scream echoing as he pulled me on him and we stood there hovering. I couldn't mount the horse, so he had to push me up on it as well. He then mounted behind me, passing two skeletal arms around my waist reaching for the reins, as the horse begun to trot on the sky, not flying, but simply trotting on air, ignoring the laws of gravitation.

And as the cool night breeze blew my awfully messed up hair, my back leaning on his ribcage, galloping across the sky on a horse named Binky, for the first time in my life...

I was able to fly.


	8. Valentine is done

From this night on he'd visit me everyday. Walk through the wall next to the window, sitting on the chair and pulling out my hourglass to check on the time left. And so days would go by, and I'd watch his every move thoroughly, struggling to find something humane on him.

He, on the other side, would come more and more closer to me, every day letting me discover another secret of his past. I had so far learned he lived in his own country, were there was no time and everything was black -due to his inability to create color. He also had a butler, named Albert, and had brought a little skeletal rodent with him once, whose name was Death Of Rats and was followed by a quite irritating and grumpy talking raven. Death said the Death Of Rats is a part of him, but had avoided my question as to how they had been separated.

My Consience, however, continued to insist he was just a hallucination and kept getting on my nerves by screaming in my ear and giving me sharp pains in the stomach. My mind would always be horribly dizzy once he left, and I'd wake up with strong headaches. But was it worth it?

Throughout my life I haven't had many lovers. I was never particularly interested in the subject of love anyway. But there are a few people I could never forget, because of their enormous contribution to my heart; my family.

Of course, my relatives have long ago disappeared. I cannot blame them, though. Sometimes, I try to act as if I were they, having a beloved person three years stunned in a hospital bed. And I don't think I would be able to take it. However, the memories they have granted me are what keeps me alive in this hospital room.

I can recall the sweet smell of cookies being baked in the oven.

I can recall the yelling of my mother, for my brother broke something again.

I can recall the wide grin of my father as he opens the door, returning home from work.

I am only twenty, but, since I met Death, I decided to stop counting the days and years that go by. It doesn't matter anymore. I've lost three of the most important years of my life here. And yet, now the time has come to end my misery, for whatever reason I just don't want to give it up. I love my life.

Well, not exactly love. Mostly, appreciate the fact I'm still alive and believe every human being does. Life is a gift; one that should not be wasted. It's not about religion -I was never a religious person*- but about the true meaning of our existence, which I consider to be living your life until it's very last minute, taking everything you can out of it. When it comes to dying, I never really had a philosophy. But I think dying happy implies dying having done all that was to be done.

How come I feel so depressed suddenly?

My hands wander on the soaked pillow. I've been crying tears of nostalgia and pain. I suddenly come in contact with a familiar material; it's a rose petal. Someone has left a rose next to my pillow again. I promised myself I'd ask the nurse last time a found one next to me when I woke up, but forgot to. It's really hard to concentrate when a seven-foot tall skeleton visits you every night to check if you've died already.

Maybe it was him. He was trying very hard to make me feel better about myself lately. But the roses were there long before Death came. So it must be someone else. The only problem is, nobody else ever comes.

I laid there, questioning myself for a while. I hadn't slept all night, and it was probably near dawning now, so I decided to close my eyes for a while.

The darkness of my dreamless sleep was smashed by irritating noises, like a thin layer of ice smashed with a hammer.

It was a shiny morning, the room cool and my sheets warm. The radio had been switched on earlier by Nurse Betty, who loved listening to music while cleaning up my room. A show about young couples was on. It was Valentine's Day.


	9. Romeo and Juliet

When you've been alone for too long, you sometimes feel the echo of the last words spoken to you inside your head.

When you've been alone for too long, even the mere impression of someone feeling something for you can bring a tremendous satisfaction to your heart.

When you've been alone for too long, you don't care who is standing opposite you, as long as they are standing there, _with you._

"_Hello ladies and gentlemen and welcome to Who Is My Valentine!, our Valentine Day special on Lousy FM! So, today, a young couple from Italy will be joining us, to share their own unusual experience! Please welcome, Romeo and Juliet!"_

There was some clapping, it probably was a live broadcast.

"_So, Romeo, how did you get to meet Juliet?"_

"_Well, we were classmates, and you know, since we were little everyone would...you know say we had chemistry and stuff because of our names..."_

"_Oh, I don't see a reason why they wouldn't! What about you, Juliet? Did you fall in love from the first sight with Romeo?"_

"_Oh, yes I was starstruck!"_

I rolled my eyes. There was some other cheering and I decided to change the station when a word captured my ear...

"_So what are your plans for the future?"_

"_Whatever happens, we have promised to never let each other go...Not even in death."_

There was some blur clapping echoing in my stunned head.

_Romeo and Juliet,_

_are together in eternity..._

Then there was this song, and a fluttering feeling inside, and out of sudden, all I wanted to do, all I wanted to see and hear, was Him.

*()*

Death had never experienced love. Not even when he was Bill Door. So, he shouldn't obviously be able to mimic a feeling he had never felt before. But he had felt need. And care. And affection. So, for some strange reason, Katherine caused him to mimic this feelings, in a bittersweet mixture of him needing her, yet being unable to have her.

He wasn't accustomed to the ways of a young lady, even though Katherine was no complex character, and open-minded enough to let him get close enough to her. Death knew he had to impress her somehow, he had to please her. He wasn't beautiful, nor could attract her with his character, which where the two basic ways for love to be created, as far as he knew. But he could definitely make her need him.

In fact, Death thought she probably already did. When he was near her, she could see and walk and do all those things she hadn't done for so long. But he didn't want her to need him in this way. He didn't want her to feel he was just death for her; he wanted to be Bill Door for her.

Rising from his study chair, he walked around the office and out of the room, in seach of his butler. Albert was frying pudding in the kitchen as always. Death walked through the kitchen wall to get to him.

I NEED YOUR HELP.

The old wizard jumped up in surprise, spilling some pudding out the frying pan and on the floor.

"What is it master?" He tried to act as if nothing had happenned.

I MUST ASK YOU SOME QUESTIONS...

Albert raised a silver eyebrow.

"Is it about this girl you're visiting? Cause I know as much as you do as far as soul transportation is concerned..."

Death seemed puzzled.

YES, IT IS ABOUT HER. BUT NOT ABOUT HER SOUL.

Albert frowned, one horrible idea slipping into his mind, causing him to immediately pray his suspicions were proved wrong.

"...What about her then, master?" he said eying the skeleton opposite him.

ER...I...HOW CAN I PLEASE A HUMAN?

Albert felt his heart sinking into despair. Not human business again!, he thought.

"It is about the human, sir."

ER...HOW CAN I PLEASE A FEMALE HUMAN?

Albert felt unable to hold his fury back. He had to obey Death, or he would be kicked back out on the Disk, such little time left in his hourglass.

"Well...ladies like...being bought things."

YES. I CAN RECALL ESPECIALLY FLOWERS, CHOCOLATES AND DIAMONDS. BUT I NEED SOMETHING MORE THAN THAT...

"What do you mean?"

I NEED SOMETHING NO WOMAN HAS BEEN GIVEN BEFORE...SOMETHING...UNIQUE.

Albert seemed to be thinking for a while, he then snapped sharply.

"I know! Dragon's Tears!"

If Death had eyebrows, they'd both fly up in surprise.

DO YOU THINK IT WOULD BE SAFE TO TAKE THEM TO ANOTHER WORLD?

"I don't see why not. They're not so dangerous after all."

Death seemed thoughtful.

CORRECT. I MUST BE LEAVING NOW.

"The duty?"

THE TEARS.

*()*

Nurse Betty burst into the room. I couldn't sense if she was happy or upset, but she was definitely very nervous.

"Is something wrong?", I spoke.

"Er...not exactly. There is someone here," she paused in search of the right word, "to see you."

I felt my heart pounding louder.

"Me?"

She didn't reply, but I could feel her nodding.

"He says he knows you."

I felt my neck becoming drier as I couldn't believe it.

"Me?"

"He says he's your brother."


	10. Are together in eternity

"But I have no brother..."

I mumbled to myself as Nurse Betty shut the door noisily behind her, the characteristic slam that would always bring me back to reality.

So, was he the one leaving all these roses for me? I felt some disappointment, but immediately taunted myself.

Yes, it wasn't Death, it was someone much better, who can really feel something for you and won't reap your soul once your time here ends! Conscience, always screaming, said.

But...Yes, you're right, I, for the first time, agreed with her.

She didn't reply, obviously surprised I gave it up so easily. But she was right. A family was all I had ever wished for those last years. The problem was, I never had a brother. I have a perfect memory, thus would remember it if I had one, not that a brother is something that can be forgotten.

My mind, ignoring my wish to keep thinking the mystery through, started to trot into the enormous field of fantasy, picturing what my brother looks like. He should be tall. Every one in our family is. And slim. Not skinny, like my mother, but slim with a lot of muscles. And his face...I tried to recall my father's face. Strong jaw, and those beautiful blue eyes. And he should have dark curly hair as well...and chocolate colored skin. His hair should have the color of freshly baked bread and be long and wavy and...

But he still shouldn't exist. I yawned. How come I was feeling so tired when I had just woken up? I shrugged to myself and leaned to the side, closing my eyes as I did. Maybe I could think about it later. There was no time pressing on me, anyway.

*()*

Three knocks. The third one, causes the small wooden door to open.

"What do you want?" , it's a small grumpy dwarf.

I HAVE BEEN INFORMED YOU OWN A DRAGON.

"No I don't, get out of here." , it says and slams the door.

Three knocks. The third one causes the small wooden door to open again.

"What do you want?" , the dwarf says nastily. His brows form a constant frown, he is ugly.

I NEED TO TALK TO YOUR DRAGON.

"I have no dragon! Now get the hell out of here!" , the dwarf slams the door.

Three knocks. The third one causes the door to open, but the dwarf begins to slam it as he sees the visitor. A bony hand reaches for the door before it is closed, and swings it open. The dwarf eyes the man before him wide-eyed; but he really can't make out what he looks like.

I SAID I NEED YOUR DRAGON. AND I NEED IT NOW.

The dwarf nods. He lets the man, who mysteriously comes inside without going through the door -not that he could go through it, since he was at least seven-feet tall-, in and guides him to the backyard. There is a path that leads into a cave.

"It's inside there. But be careful...it bites."

The dwarf looks at him as if hypnotized, as the man walks inside the cave, his dark robe colliding with the darkness around it.

A minute later, the man comes back out holding a small, shining gem. The dwarf stares with an open mouth, as the stranger walks though his back door and outside the house. He doesn't bother following him; no one ever would.

*()*

Conscience was beautiful.

She was beautiful, because humans thought logic to be one of the highest moral ethics. She was always nervous, because humans believed her to be in a constant fight with their emotions. She also had the power to cause pain, rumbles and a slight deafening, because she was strong. But, Conscience was also very...logical. Thus, she was unable to understand meanings like Love. And thus, she was unpleasantly surprised to find out some "love" had just been plowed inside Katherine's heart. Mostly because she knew who Katherine was starting to feel it for. And she knew she had to stop it now, before it was too late.

The morning sun grew wider during midday, and faded into the colorful sunset, to be replaced by a full moon. The galloping of Binky was heard from faraway, once the clock ticked midnight. Katherine Bluestone woke up, to witness the Grim Reaper walking through her door, the scent of expensive perfume filling the air, instead of his usual fuggy smell. He was holding a small box, wrapped around carefully, with a big red bow on top of it.

She sniffs the air around her; where has all the fug gone? He places his scythe against the wall and nears her bed.

"Have you put on perfume or what?"

He looks at her nervously.

ALBERT SAID YOU'D LIKE ME TO.

She giggles a bit.

"Then Albert has a pretty good taste, for this should cost you quite a fortune to put on."

SHOULD IT? , He seems puzzled.

"I mean...um...never mind." She smiles at him. He stares back awkwardly.

There is a moment of silence. For them, it is just the classic awkward silence one gets when they stand opposite the Grim Reaper, but for Conscience it's more like the silence that surrounds a battlefield before the attack.

I HAVE BROUGHT YOU SOMETHING.

Katherine stares at him and blushes. He probably spent a fortune on this as well, she thinks. Conscience gives her a slight slap, but the girl feels nothing.

Snap out of it! He can't have brought you anything because HE DOESN'T EXIST! , Conscience screams.

You sounded a lot like him right now, Katherine's chuckles inside her mind.

"You really shouldn't have..."

I SHOULDN'T? He looks bewildered and anxious.

She rolls her eyes smiling.

"In a metaphorical sense."

OH.

There is a pause again.

"You can hand it to me, you know."

He looks at her, with what could have been embarrassment.

I SUPPOSE I CAN.

He hands it to the girl, she opens it to find a shining crystal inside. He says it's Dragon's Tears, able to sense your mood and change color while you wear the necklace the crystal is adapted on. She asks him to put it on her, he takes it in hand and wraps it around her neck, lifting her hair up with his other hand. It looks beautiful, and slowly turns red. Death says it only turns red when someone is feeling warm inside. Katherine says it is probably the best way to describe how she is feeling right now.

He sits next to her on the bed. As things around them start to fade into black, time stops, to find The Discworld Death wrapped around some young lady's arms. They embrace and the world stands still and breathless, to witness the most extraordinary love in its primitive form. To them, there is no yesterday, and no tomorrow. In the shadow of Saint Valentine's midnight, they make a silent promise;

they will be together, in eternity.

But eternity is a very long time...


	11. Forty thousand men and women everyday

If he has seen so many people die; why would my death be so special to him?

The thought struck me alongside the first sun ray. Why on Earth would he choose to spent all this time -not that time was such a big thing for him- with me, to bring me a present, to show me he has some...emotions. Some care...some affection. Some of the things a hospital bed deprives you of and you wake up three years later to find you may never experience again, as the sand in your hourglass hisses noisily.

Out of all the people he has ever collected, he chose to bring _me_ a gift. He chose to try and feel, in his own way, something for _me._

But Death has, indeed, witnessed thousands of deaths, uncountable souls passing on to the other side. His vibe is frozen, because he cannot feel, and he cannot feel, because if he could he wouldn't be able to do his job. His hands are always cold, because he can't touch, not with the human sense of touching, the warmth of ones skin colliding with yours.

He had told me, this night he took me on a ride with Binky, that most of the days about forty thousand people every day commit suicide, which is really irritating because he really wishes he had a life to waste like they did. He really wishes he were human, or at least, closer to humans. He has been enchanted by us and that I could feel from the first minute on his white horse, two bony hands reaching for the reins around me, and he offering me an opportunity I would never again be offered.

The door creaked open, the hinges had obviously been damaged from Nurse Betty slamming the door all the time. But this time it wasn't Nurse Betty; I could feel it because the one that came in stepped as lightly as a cat and smelled of masculine perfume. I opened my eyes to find out it was pointless. Once again, Death was gone and I was blind.

Someone neared my bed. I started to worry as I felt two warm hands caress my cheek. I tried to breathe calmly, and not to enjoy the human touch -which I had horribly missed.

"Who...are you?" , I startled as I heard the man above me breathe slowly.

It seemed to me as if he smiled ironically, but I rejected the thought.

"You don't recognize me?"

I shook my head.

This time he chuckled, I could clearly hear it.

"I am your brother!"

*()*

HOW WILL I KNOW WHICH ONE TO PICK?

The florist sighed and placed his hands on the desk. He had to hold his nerves back and be a nice, warm and cheerful gentleman for his bizarre customer was there to spend a generous sum of money, but he just couldn't help it.

"Well, it's all about the message you want the young lady to receive. For example, we have got those very expens...extraordinary white roses, to express purity, love and..."

I'LL TAKE THEM. AND SOME OF THOSE BLUE TOO.

The florist smiled.

"Excellent choice sir..."

AND WHAT ARE THOSE PURPLE?

The salesman's stare followed the direction of the extended bony digit.

"Oh, you mean the lavender plant...well it...just smells nice."

I'LL TAKE IT.

The florist smiled even more widely as they both headed towards the counter. He wrapped the flowers together with a dark red bow and handed them to the dark figure opposite him. The man seemed puzzled as he took the flowers.

COULD YOU PLEASE LET ME KNOW...

The florist looked up at him patiently -or at least as patiently as he could pretend to.

...WHAT ELSE CAN I PURCHASE FOR HER?

The salesman sighed. Love. It could really drive a man insane, or at least empty their wallets.

"Well...you said you want to ask her out on a date?"

CORRECT.

"Then...maybe..." , he rubbed his chin with his middle finger, "Well some piece of garment, or jewelery might do the job."

YOU BELIEVE SO?

The florist nodded and smiled happily as the mysterious man hurried outside the door, leaving a small black pouch on the counter.

*()*

"You can't be..."

I felt my lips numb. He smiled again.

"You are probably still disorientated from the coma..."

"I..."

"You remember me, I'm sure."

There was someone else in the room as well. Nurse Betty. And another man, whom I didn't know but his aura was very cold and inhuman.

"I don't..." , I mumbled.

He started to panic, I could feel it. But then he suddenly stopped emitting a vibe, as if as he wasn't there above me. There was no feeling, no heartbeat...

"You know, she probably just needs some time." , the other man said. Nurse Betty didn't reply, but she should have nodded because the man above me seemed happy.

I strongly wished I wasn't blind, so that I could see the man that claimed to be my brother; maybe he was telling the truth.

Maybe he isn't! Conscience said.

But why would anyone lie about it? I mean, my family had long ago forgotten me anyway.

"Well..." , he stopped as if he was trying to remember something, "...Kathrine, you will probably be wondering why I didn't visit you all these years..."

"You are the one sending roses to me?"

He hushed.

"That was Stefan."

I felt terribly bewildered, my head dizzy from processing all these new information.

"Who's Stefan?"

"Your...fiancé."

I felt my heart freeze, as the man standing next to Nurse Betty spoke. Fiancé? Meant he to tell me I had a fiancé when I've been in a hospital bed since my seventeen? They were both lying...but something stopped me from disagreeing with them.

"He wants to see you, but is afraid you won't remember him and, thus, reject him...", my so-called brother said.

Nurse Betty decided to take the lead now.

"So, Kate, are you willing to see him again?"

Sometimes you just know you are about to make the wrong decision, but for some strange reason, you still make it.


	12. Redefine happiness

I had my head turned towards the window, even though I could see nothing. Since the cuckoo clock had been replaced, my eyesight was my only means of predicting when he was about to come.

I remember once, I loved long walks in the morning. The sun was dawning and I would walk alongside our yard to witness the first light of day escaping through the wet tree leaves.

I also loved the sea. I could spent hours gazing at the waves softly crushing ashore. However, I have always been a hopeless swimmer.

And playing wrestling with Stuart, our family dog. But that was only when I was a child, for then he was too old to jump around barking like he'd once do.

Oh, and drawing! There was a time, I remember, when I would carry a sketching block with me everywhere, sketching whatever was around. But I can't say I was very good at it. Despite the practice, it turned out to be some lines with smudges.

And now, while I laid there waiting for my "reaper on a white horse" to come, I felt...happiness.

GOOD EVENING, KATHERINE.

I jumped up and looked around to find him looking back at me. I was so busy with my thoughts, I probably hadn't noticed my eyesight recovering.

"Good evening to you to", I smiled.

He was holding something behind his back, for both his hands had disappeared. I eyed him carefully.

"What's that thing you have there?"

He leaned his skull a bit forward, as if embarrassed.

I HAVE...BROUGHT SOMETHING FOR YOU.

"Again!"

ER...I...COULDN'T HELP IT. I AM SORRY.

I looked at him and smiled. So naive and generous and all those things I had never had the chance to experience on a man...Or had I? Suddenly, the reminiscent smell of my so-called brother began to haunt me. I immediately scared it away.

"It's alright. But you shouldn't spoil me like that you know!"

He nodded and I could swear he would have smiled, if he had any lips.

"So...what did you bring?"

His one hand appeared suddenly, holding a big bouquet of roses, white and red, mixed with lavender twigs. I stood there gazing at them bewildered; was he offering flowers to me? I slowly reached and took them, bringing them to my nose to smell them. What followed was indescribable; so many smells, so much color and...life. Yes they were real, real flowers full of life. I smiled and looked up at him.

His other bony hand was now extended, holding some sort of velvet box. I slowly took it from him and opened it. Something shiny appeared. It was a bracelet, but not any bracelet. This one had small figures carved on the golden material. It was probably some sort of representation, but my eyesight wasn't strong enough to make it out.

"What is it?"

Death looked down at me with the blue sparks in his eye sockets.

IT IS YOUR PAST...AND FUTURE.

He looked sad. I left my mouth hang open in astonishment.

"You mean...my life?"

YES.

I brought it closer to my eyes so I could see something. It was my life indeed. I could see my birth, my mother, our house, my father...Stuart the dog. Then I could see my school and classmates, as I turned it around my own fingers, I could see several phases of my growing up and then...there it was. The day I fainted and my parents carried me to the hospital. I felt tears coming up my eyes. Little did they know they would never see me again after this day.

ARE YOU UPSET?

He made me snap back into reality.

"No...", I said and faked a smile wiping a little tear that had managed to escape my eyelids.

He seemed puzzled.

YOU SEEM AS IF YOU ARE.

He reached and gently pulled some hair away from my face, sending shivers down my spine as his cold fingers contacted my skin.

"No...It's just...I've been through a lot lately."

He didn't answer. He withdrew his hand and walked away.

IT IS ME, ISN'T IT?

"What?"

MY PRESENCE...REMINDS YOU OF WHAT IS TO BE DONE...SOONER OR LATER.

He seemed to have a hard time thinking about the fact he'd have to reap my soul eventually. However, it was hard to explain to him that, even though he still plowed a feeling of anxiety in my heart, his thoughtfulness and almost human ways, had actually charmed me. I felt the need to come closer to him.

"It's not like that...", I tried to reassure him. He didn't even turn to look at me. I sighed and then took another breath, deciding to risk it all, since there was not enough time for drama like that. "Look, today some men came and tried to convince me I had a brother and was...engaged. And I've been thinking about it all day, and now I saw the representation on the bracelet and really couldn't help it..."

There it comes again! I thought desperately as I let out a sob.

He turned around and slowly walked to me, my eyes buried between my feet as I had burst into tears. He sat on the bed next to me.

I AM SORRY.

"I said it's not your fault..." , I mumbled while leaning towards him.

I BROUGHT YOU THE BRACELET. I CONTRIBUTED TO ONE OF THE FACTORS THAT MADE YOU UPSET. THUS, I AM SORRY.

His words brought some relief to my aching soul.

"It's ok...", I looked up.

There was a pause of silence, but he broke it first.

I HAD ACTUALLY PLANNED SOMETHING VERY SPECIAL FOR TONIGHT, KATHERINE.

"You had?"

YES. I WAS...ER...OF COURSE IF YOU AGREE, I WOULD...ER...LIKE TO HAVE A NIGHT OUT WITH YOU.

I smiled. We had rode out together before, but this time he was obviously talking about a walk, or some fun etc...Didn't sound that bad to me...

But it does to me! Conscience screamed.

Are you even awake?

No! But don't go!

I am in no need for your permission, you know.

She screamed something again but I ignored her.

"Well, I don't see a reason why not."

He reached out his hand. I felt excitement reaching its peek.

*()*

We galloped through darkness, in the vast fields of universe, traveling through time and space, witnessing billions of stars as they died and reborn.

Yet, the spot we chose to halt and dismount at, was the most humble pond of them all, lost somewhere between the expansions of Savannah and African Jungle. Death was the first to climb off the horse, extending his bony hands so that I could grab them and get down as well.

Sooner or later, we found ourselves lost in endless conversations about life, the meaning of it. I had to admit, Death was a very interesting person to talk with about such subjects. What surprised me the most was, not even he knew what the meaning of our existence was. He knew how every molecule of the universe was created, how every molecule would come to an end, but he knew nothing about the time in between.

There was a beautiful moment, when he was sitting on the grass near the pond, his blue sparks meeting the ones of the countless stars on the endless sky. And that was when I realized how important he was to me and every human being. What would life be, without an end? If we kept living forever, then what would the point be? I decided not to share my thoughts with him. Time was pressing on us more than ever, I could feel it.

I leaned my head on his hard shoulder. He slightly turned his skull towards me, I could swear he was surprised. Not a lot of people touched Death. But I wasn't afraid of him. There was no reason to be. I knew the end would come, and I knew the difference between Him and death in general. He was more than the Reaper; he was an instructor, a redeemer, a unique personality. And that is something you can only know when you are a twenty year old lady waiting for her final breath, having spent the best years of her life away from the world.

I recalled our first meeting. He was so different when I fist so him. He was terrifying and harsh, distant, indifferent and cold. But once you get to know him, Death is nothing more than another person doing their job. It is his job to collect; that doesn't mean he chose to.

With my hand placed on his, gazing at the dark night sky, somewhere near a pond in Africa, Binky grazing a few miles away, I finally came to realize the meaning of life.

"Hey..."

YES?

"I love you."


	13. Came the last night of sadness

On the way home, none of us spoke. I could feel it more than ever now, the end was near. It was creeping up to me like a silent mist and I was afraid; afraid that he couldn't save me from it. There was nothing he could do to stop it. It was his duty. And my fate.

The horse reached the hotel window, where we climbed down. He helped me go through the window, while walking through the wall, balancing on air. When I finally was laid on my bed I looked up at him. The glow in his eye sockets had somewhat faded.

"Are you alright?"

He didn't answer. But there was something telling me he was heartbroken. I rose on my elbows to be closer to him but he just looked away. There was something creeping towards us through the darkness. It was Pain.

Pain and I first met in the hospital. He's nothing spectacular; a little child with green skin and horribly small eyes. He seems quite harmless from a distance, but once near you, he makes your whole body ache as if it has been crashed under the weight of a mountain. My eyes watered. I hated him.

This time, however, he didn't come close. He just stood there from a distance gazing at me. I looked up to see Death taller than ever; his glare stuck on the child. Pain was probably either afraid of him, or realized his toy -that would be me- was worn out. Death snapped his fingers, the scythe appearing in his hand. I saw Pain run away with the speed of light.

"Thanks..."

I WON'T COME TOMORROW, KATHERINE.

I paused in shock.

"Huh?"

I AM SORRY. BUT I FEAR I BECAME FAR TOO RELATED TO YOU TO DO MY JOB AS I SHOULD.

"Wh...What are you talking about?"

He looked down.

I AM AFRAID I MIGHT...HAVE FELT SOMETHING. FOR YOU.

I smiled.

"Really? That's wonderful!"

The glow in his sockets faded even more. I could hardly see it.

NO. IT IS NOT.

"...But you said..."

I SAID MANY THINGS THAT I WAS NOT TO SAY.

I looked up at him. There was something like frustration, but most of all there was disappointment that grew bigger once Conscience started screaming "I had warned you!"

"You mean...you don't..."

I CANNOT LOVE. I AM NOT MEANT TO.

He paused and turned away. My hourglass was now visible on his hand. There was very little sand left.

No time to back off, I thought.

"And I wasn't meant to love the Grim Reaper as well" I said in a serious voice. He turned around. Death obviously wasn't used to people talking to him like that.

"But I did. And you said you felt something too. And now, just because I'm about to die, you back off, and forget everything, every moment we spent together, and you tell me some stupid rules do not allow you to love me, but you said..."

**I SAID I AM NOT MEANT TO FEEL. SO, GOODBYE MISS BLUESTONE.**

I felt tears escaping my eyes like crazy.

"No! You can't just go like that!"

YOU WILL SEE ME AGAIN VERY SOON. THIS I GUARANTEE.

Everything started to blur. I sensed him leaving the room, abandoning me crying like crazy.

I knew it all from the start! But you wouldn't listen! You were smart enough to act on your own! Look what happened now! Conscience wouldn't stop screaming.

I tried to ignore her and it wasn't very hard to. All this pain in my breaking hard was abstracting me from everything that went on around me. And that is exactly the reason why I didn't notice Nurse Betty entering the room.

"Are you alright, dear?"

I tried to see her, but could see nothing. I couldn't focus on what she was saying either. All I heard was voices. Voices of the past, future and present. Voices that belonged to my relatives, but also to strangers. The ruler of them all, was His voice, cruel and harsh like when we first met.

"I have been such a fool..."

Nurse Betty looked at me in wonder.

"...Why so dear?"

"I...fell in love, Nurse. With the wrong man! If he is a man at all..."

"If you are talking about the men visiting you this morning...Well they didn't convince me they really were..."

"I'm not talking about them. I don't care about them."

"Then..."

"It's Death, Nurse. Death comes in here every night, and we are in love. I know he loves me, he almost said it! But then he acted so indifferently..."

"...I will call your doctor, dear."

"Doctor?"

"You really need some help..."

"Yes...bring him back to me!"

She stepped out of the door, with me screaming behind her. Despair was in the room with me. I could feel it.


	14. And it was clear she couldn't go on

Sometimes people create fantasies, to escape what is that truly bothers them. They create a world as it should be, to erase the world as it is, because they simply can't take it.

We blame others for our misfortune, for our pain and loneliness, but if you take a better look at it, it's us; us scratching the wound so it bleeds badly, then blaming the doctor he never took care of it. Then comes the infection, and you hate people around you, because you have a wound and they don't. You were stupid enough to scratch it, but they were too smart to.

Now I realized why Death wouldn't visit me. He knew he couldn't feel, and had pushed it to the limits to feel for me. Now he probably felt...thought sorry he couldn't live up to my expectations and he was stupid enough to scratch his own wound. I wondered if he would ever know I could treat this wound, once and for all.

On the other hand, when people posses something we don't, whether it's a blessing or curse, we feel jealous we don't posses it. Just like the children, infamous for their greed. But when you come to think about it, they only ask for things they've seen others posses. For example, give your child an expensive toy, and allow it to take it to school. Chances are, when it comes back, another kid, who saw the toy and wanted one, will have broken or stolen it. So you end up with a crying child and an empty pocket.

My so-called brother and fiance would now visit me every day, bringing roses and chocolates with them. I didn't ask questions. I didn't have to. Time is the most reliable consultant, Conscience would say. And for once I listened to her and she was proved right. One Friday came a lawyer with some papers for me to sign. He read them aloud, because I couldn't read. Turns out I had a fortune, one big enough to buy a cottage in Massachusetts and live there with my five hundred butlers.

Now I realized why these men came, claiming to be people who once knew and loved me. I had a toy, and they wanted it. And I gave it to them. As simple as that. Because I didn't care. It didn't matter.

People spent their lives gathering money, clothes, homes, children. If only one of them had realized this one, simple thing. This which I, in my deathbed, waiting patiently for the end, realize; None of your money, homes, cars, clothes, not even your friend or children will follow you in the other side. But love will. Happiness will. All your feelings and good times will.

Truth is, not even Death knows what happens after he comes. So, whatever it is, you had better make the experience worth it, for no one knows what will follow. Father had once told me Ancient Greeks used to say "never call a person happy, until you see how they die"...And now I could finally appreciate their wisdom.

Now, just as the sun was going down, right before the pale moon began it's journey through a cloudy sky, I had understood. I had realized; I couldn't go on.


	15. The curtains flew and then he appeared

Pain, shock and sweat. The window was open, but I was burning hot. The nurses had given up on me an hour ago, leaving a small red button inside the room. It was the button one pressed right before they were to pass on to the other side, the button that would inform a doctor you still wanted to fight, that it wasn't your time yet. Now it was resting between my hands, crossed on my aching chest.

"I know you are here.", I stated, Pain creeping towards me. Now he was accompanied by his friends; Despair, Agony, Fear.

I had always thought I would be stronger when it came to dying. Some days I was actually looking forward to it, a form of salvation. But now Pain's friends filled my head with unprecedented thoughts; what if I didn't die, and got well? What if I could stand up on my feet again, enjoy the sun, the rain, the grass, the life? But were I strong enough? Was I the kind of person who would press the red button and fight to the limit? Or would I just give up, hand myself over to the sweet redeemer that was Death? I knew he was coming shortly. But he had long ago lost his charm, his elegance.

Something breathed fire on my frozen insides. It was Hope. I felt happiness, because I knew I still had a chance, I could still fight. However, my feelings wore out once Binky's hoofs echoed outside my window. I regained my sight, and clearly see Death walking through my wall, scythe in hand. And I felt hurt, a bitter taste on my tongue, which was now dry along with my neck. Would I press the button? Or give into him? The blade shined, it's elegance embraced by the silver moon, now rising up to watch my story come to an end. A melody haunting me, it was the song about Romeo and Juliet...Don't...

He walked slowly to me. Fear had paralyzed my hands, and I had to press the button. My fingers wouldn't obey me but I knew I had to, I knew there's still hope buried somewhere underneath this pile of desperate thoughts.

WHAT WOULD THE POINT BE, HUMAN? he said, his voice haunting me more than ever, DO YOU THINK A BUTTON COULD CHANGE THE FUNCTION OF A WHOLE UNIVERSE? COULD IT CHANGE YOUR FATE? YOUR DESTINY? TELL ME, WHAT WOULD THE POINT BE IF A BUTTON HAD THE POWER TO DO SO?

I laid there, blinking. I could plead him. Take advantage of the feelings he claimed to have and gain some more time...I could push the button and call a doctor, who would struggle to save me, but fail...and escape for a while. And feed the famished Hope inside me, for a while. I could put it off, but I couldn't escape the inevitable. He was right. It had to be done. There was only one last thing left to say.

"How much time have I got?"

He slid the familiar hourglass out of his robe. With a first look, it was totally empty. But then I noticed the small granule dripping.

A MINUTE. NOW LESS.

I sigh, then throw the button down and rise on my elbows to finally sit up on my bed. It doesn't hurt anymore. It only feels numb.

"I love you."

Silence.

I KNOW.

"Do you?"

Silence. I will forever wonder why he didn't stop the clock right then. He could have. He could have done so and taken all the time he needed to consider his answer. But he didn't.

YOUR TIME IS UP.

"Answer."

LIE DOWN.

"I won't."

I'M TRYING TO HELP.

"You can't."

He made a noise which pretty much resembled a sigh. Then his hand holding the scythe rose, I looked at the long fingers holding it in shock. Then I turned my head down, looking away, only to find out that my Soul had left my body long ago, since I rose up on my elbows. Now I could see myself lying dead below me, a simple corpse only joined with the should through a thin blue line, like a needle, now cut by the sharp scythe. I was dead. Oh, what a relief and sorrow at the same time. I looked up at him. He suddenly seemed so real.

"Is it over?"


	16. She had become like they are

YES.

I smiled and stood on my feet. He stood still in front of me, looking down, the blue sparks back inside his eyes. We spoke nothing for a moment, until it became akward.

"And now...?", I said, kind of unsure of the answer I'd get.

NOW WE WAIT.

"For what?"

FOR YOUR PASSING TO THE AFTERLIFE.

I tried to scratch my chin by my hand went through it. It kind of gave me the chills but I ignored it.

"I'll come where you are?"

YOU'LL FIND ANOTHER BODY TO INHABIT. BUT, YES IT WILL BE WHERE I...WORK.

I nodded silently. Then something occurred to me. Now there was no Conscience to stop me, so I didn't give it a second thought. My non-existent arms wrapped around him, head on his ribcage. For a reason he has explained to me a billion times until now, but I still can't understand, my hands didn't go through him.

"I still want to be with you, you know."

There was another moment of silence.

I THINK I LOVE YOU.

I smiled, body fading into the darkness that was the entrance to the afterlife. Death's morph faded into the blackness. I was one of them now.


	17. Don't Fear The Reaper

Albert opens the vast door to his master's office, a disk decorated with small skulls in hand. On it, Death's personal mug filled with warm tea, a jar for sugar, and a little spoon, matching the skull pattern of its set. The tea is boiling hot, just as master likes it. He knocks twice, and Death's deep voice is heard from inside, allowing him to come in. He opens the door with his free hand, and is ready to walk in, when a low "miauh" is heard. The butler steps aside, allowing the red-haired cat to come in.

I cross the room and hop on Death's lap. He's busy with his book, but sits back on the chair, petting my head with five long fingers. I muffled for I'm truly enjoying his touch. Albert walks in and places the disk on the table.

THANK YOU, ALBERT. I want to thank him to, so I make another miauh for him.

"You are most welcome, Master. Shall I get you anything else?"

Death looks down at me, comfortable in his lap.

I THINK WE'RE FINE.

The butler nods and leaves. I hop on the desk, careful not to spill the tea or step on the various objects lying on it.

YOU CAN HAVE IT IF YOU WANT, KATHERINE. Death says. I brush my tail against his chin. YOU ARE WELCOME.

I made another muffled sound and jumped back on his lap, climbing on him, flicking a tiny tongue on his bottom jaw. Death caresses me again, wraps ten cold fingers around my abdomen and places me on the ground. I go a little further to sit on a velvet chair he had specially made for me. I watch him as he works. He doesn't like being bothered, but I'll bother him now. I make a noise to get his attention.

YES?

Another noise. There was something like a smile carved upon his face.

-THE END-


End file.
